


May The Bridges I Have Burned Light My Way Back Home

by BleedingInk



Series: I'll Miss Missing You Now And Then [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Couple's Drama, Endgame Megstiel, F/M, Love Triangle, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Weddings, past Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11098095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Castiel and Meg have been together for a while now and Castiel is convinced they couldn't be happier. However, when an old boyfriend of his walks back into his life by chance, their relationship might just be put to the test.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueRoseJuliet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoseJuliet/gifts).



> This is set in the same universe as [this one shot](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11067969). You can read this fic as a stand alone, but there are things you may understand better if you read the one shot first. Thanks to BlueRoseJuliet who suggested I should write a continuation!

He makes the decision on the morning after Christmas.

It’s been a freezing cold December, but he’s warm and happy underneath the blankets. The bed should be too small for two people, but they managed to burrow into it together. Meg is sleeping with her face inches away from his in the pillow, her breathing calm and deep, peace in her usually troubled features. A lock of hair falls on her cheek and Castiel softly brushes it aside. Meg shifts, but she doesn’t wake up. In fact, she sinks further into the mattress and pulls the blankets over her before going limp again.

And that’s when Castiel decides he wants to spend the rest of his life with this woman. It doesn’t come as a revelation or an epiphany, simply as an acknowledgment that he is deeply in love with her and he doesn’t want that to change, ever.

They’ve been together for two and a half years now. They argue sometimes, like every couple, but their fights never make him feel like the ground underneath his feet is going to drop out. He knows that no matter how bad it gets, she will still be there the following morning so they can talk it out. She knows his darkest secrets and he knows hers. She has met his sister Hannah, the only member of his family he still keeps contact with on regular basis, in what was a slightly awkward but cordial reunion. And her father and brother have even started to warm up to him. He thinks. They’re hard people to read, but they keep inviting them over the holidays (they’re in Meg’s childhood bedroom right now) and except for the occasional reminder there’s a death threat over his head if he ever hurts Meg, they’re very kind to him.

So it’s not hard to decide he wants to marry Meg. In fact, it seems like the easiest choice he ever had to make. He’s never felt so sure about anything in his life and he realizes this is what it should feel like. Without the jealousy, without the uncertainty, without the shame. This is what love should always have been.

They still have a day left before heading back home. That night Tom and Meg lose the bet on who has to do the dishes, and Castiel suggests Mr. Masters they could have a beer in the porch. Mr. Masters squints his strange yellow eyes at him, but accepts. It’s cold outside and they have to zip their jackets all the way up, but the neighborhood is quiet and golden with the Christmas lights people have hanged outside their windows. Mr. Masters sips from his can of beer without a word, apparently content with the state things are right now, while Castiel fidgets with his. There’s no a better moment for what he intends to do, but he still has trouble getting the words out.

“Well, boy…” Mr. Masters starts.

“I would like to ask for your permission to propose to Meg, sir,” Castiel blurts out. The words come out in a rushed, clumsy string and he can feel the blood flowing to his head as Mr. Masters turns to stare at him, his mouth slightly agape in surprise. Castiel takes a gulp of his beer to calm down. “I mean… to ask her to marry me.”

“I know what propose means. And… really? Have you met my daughter?” Mr. Masters asks. “If she wants to marry you, she’s going to marry you with or without my permission.”

Castiel can’t hold back the smile. He’s absolutely right, of course.

“Yes, I am aware,” he tells him. “And I know it seems old-fashioned, but I still would like to count with your approval. Or… your blessing.”

He shuts up because he can feel like he’s going to start blabbering again and ruin it. Mr. Masters keeps staring at him for so long it wreaks havoc on Castiel’s already agitated nerves. Finally, Mr. Masters slowly puts down his beer and turns to look at him.

“You know, you turned out to be a lot more decent than I thought you would be.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says, even though he isn’t sure that’s exactly a compliment.

Mr. Masters stands up and beckons him to follow. The kitchen is silent: the dishes are done and Tom is on the living room, mindlessly zapping through the TV channels.

“Where’s your sister?” Mr. Masters asks.

“Upstairs,” Tom informs them when they come in. “She says they have to get up early tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Masters nods. He looks almost pleased that they won’t be interrupted for whatever it is that he wants to tell Castiel. He leads him past Meg’s bedroom door and into his own. It’s just as small, but it looks smaller thanks to the double bed that occupies most of it. Mr. Masters opens the closet door and rummages through some drawers before muttering “Aha” to himself and coming back to Castiel with a little blue velvet box in his hands. He opens it to reveal a golden ring with what is, undoubtedly, three small diamonds incrusted in it, with the middle one being the biggest. The design of the ring is a little antiquated, but it’s still a very beautiful jewel.

“It belonged to Meg’s grandma,” Mr. Masters explains. “She gave it to me when I proposed to my wife and I guess I should give it to Tom, but that boy ain’t never getting married.”

“Oh,” Castiel mutters, at a time touched and surprised by the gesture. He didn’t take Mr. Masters for one who would hold on to that kind of thing. “Mr. Masters, you really don’t have to…”

“Take the ring, Castiel,” Mr. Masters tells and somehow he makes it sound like a threat, but he softens his tone when he adds: “You can save up some money and take her somewhere nice for the honeymoon.”

Castiel takes the little box. It feels like it weights a ton in his hand.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need,” Mr. Masters says, patting him in the shoulder. “We’re family now.”

“Really?” That night is definitely full of surprises. “That means I can call you Azazel?”

“No,” Mr. Masters growls. “But I’ll consider letting you call me Pops when you have children.”

Castiel guesses he can’t ask for more. Even though that probably won’t happen for a while, since he knows Meg wouldn’t want to put her medical degree on hold again.

Meg is already in bed when he walks into the room, which suits him just fine. He has time to hide the ring in his duffle bag before she raises her head.

“Hey,” she calls out.

“Hey,” Castiel says as he casually begins to undress.

“What did you and dad talk about?”

“Not much. He’s not a very… chatty man.”

Meg chuckles and snuggles against him when Castiel finally gets into bed.

“Well, I think he’s really beginning to like you,” she comments. “He hasn’t brought up the baseball bat once this year.”

Castiel laughs and places a hand around Meg’s waist to pull her closer to him and sink his nose in her hair. His heart is beating fast with euphoria and he’s already making all sorts of plans. He’s going to propose on St. Valentine’s Day. He knows it’s cheesy and that Meg will accuse him of being a sap, but if he plans it well, he truly can make it very special. He’s not going to do it in a restaurant or anything like that, because he risks someone else having the same idea in the same restaurant, but he can cook something tasty for her, decorate their apartment for the occasion and buy her favorite champagne.

They can get married over the summer. Will that be too soon to plan a wedding and a honeymoon? Meg hates the beach, but maybe they can take a cruise or go to Europe, even. He’s always wanted to visit Europe. Oh, God, will he have to invite his family? Maybe he can get away with inviting just Hannah (she’s the only one he will want there anyway), but he’ll have to talk to her about it…

By the time he falls asleep, he knows he has made the right decision. Because when he thinks about marrying Meg, all he can see is sunny days ahead.

 

* * *

 

Some events in January end up throwing a wrench in his plans. He comes home one afternoon to find Meg on the phone. She’s talking cheerfully, but he can tell from the tension around her mouth that she’s forcing it somewhat.

“I’m so happy for you, Rubes. Yes, I can’t wait either. It’ll be epic. Okay, bye!”

She hangs up and the smile she has been forcing in her words falls apart. Castiel comes closer and greets her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Who was that?”

“My friend Ruby.”

She doesn’t return the kiss, but Castiel is used to this, especially when Meg is distracted. The laptop and books on the table reveal Meg has been studying since she came back from the hospital, which means she must be tired, and whatever Ruby told her on the phone obviously gave her some food for thought.

“She’s getting married on April,” Meg announces, as she closes the books and pushes them aside so they can have dinner. “She wants me to be one of the maids of honor.”

“That’s great!” Castiel exclaims, but he’s already making calculations in his head. He takes off his coat and hangs behind the door. If Meg doesn’t want to get married that close to her friend, maybe they can’t have a June wedding after all. They may even have to wait until the following year, but that’s just as well. They’ll have more time to plan the honeymoon so it doesn’t interfere with Meg’s classes…

“Yeah, and you would never guess her fiancé’s name,” she tells him. She stands very straight and pierces him with her eyes as if she’s about to accuse him of something: “Sam Winchester.”

Castiel stops loosening his tie and looks back at her. Now he understands why she’s not more excited about Ruby’s news. It looks like she wants to laugh, like she wants him to tell her that’s just one big cosmic joke and an unlikely coincidence.

“Sam Winchester?” he repeats, even though he heard her perfectly clear the first time. “That’s… that’s strange.”

“Yeah,” Meg chuckles. “He wouldn’t happen to be related to… He Who Must Not Be Named?”

“He’s not Lord Voldemort, Meg,” Castiel says. He goes into the kitchen and takes out the jar of juice to pour it into two glasses. The action gives him time to think about how to break it to her: “But, uh… his brother happened to be… yes, his name was Sam.”

He could pretend otherwise, of course, but Meg can always tell when he’s lying. And besides…

“What are the odds of this being the same Sam?” he asks with a chuckle, passing her a glass of juice.

Meg chugs down half of it without breathing.

“Yes. What are the fucking odds?” she mutters. She pulls the chair back and sits in front of the laptop.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks as she begins to type furiously.

“You might be above Facebook-stalking people, but I’m not.”

She unfolds Ruby’s page and scrolls down (Ruby seems to share a lot of food posts, especially of burgers and French fries) until the pictures of what seems to be a New Years’ party pop up. Meg enlarges one where Ruby (a brunette with olive skin and a mischievous smile) appears with an arm around the neck of a man much taller than her and the other up to show the big diamond ring in her finger to the camera.

Castiel recognizes him. His face has lost some of the roundness it had when he was younger, his shoulders seem broader and his hair is longer. But the dimples around his smile and the way his eyes glimmer are the same.

It’s Sam, no doubt.

And as if he needs some further confirmation, Meg clicks to show the next picture and He Who Must Not Be Named himself appears.

This time he’s the one hugging Sam. The brothers are holding a bottle of beer each, clinking them together in a celebratory toast. Dean hasn’t changed as much as Sam has in that time (God, is it going to be twelve years already?), but he also looks more mature. There are crinkles around his bright green eyes and around his lips that are stretched in a grin, but the freckles in the bridge of his nose remain just as Castiel remembers them. He still wears his hair short, almost in a buzz cut on the sides. The same brown leather jacket hangs from his shoulders.

Meg doesn’t need to ask if he recognizes them. Castiel is sure his stunned silence gave him away already. She leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Well, Clarence, you sure know how to pick them pretty,” she comments.

There’s something incredibly hurtful in her tone of voice. When she’s angry, she never screams or loses her cool. She just becomes sarcastic and huffs a lot. Like she’s doing right now.

And this irritates Castiel on top of hurting him. It’s not really his fault that her friend is marrying someone who happen to be related to his ex-boyfriend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Meg snaps at him. She stands up and marches to the kitchen with a curt: “Let’s have dinner.”

Castiel takes a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose and breathes in deeply. He tells himself Meg isn’t actually mad at him. He turns off the laptop and puts it away with the books before following her. She’s standing in front of the microwave, watching the lasagna turn inside of it. She still has her arms crossed and taps the floor with her foot impatiently.

“Meg,” he calls her, even though he’s not entirely sure what to tell her.

“I’ll tell Ruby I can’t do it,” Meg decides on the fly. “I’ll make up some excuse about finals or something. She won’t get mad if we send her an expensive gift.”

“Meg,” Castiel calls her again. This time he feels safe enough to come closer and put a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t do that.”

“Well, of course I can,” Meg laughs, wryly. “It’s not like I owe it to her to spend an hour wearing a ridiculous dress and holding a bouquet just because she helped me escape the worst situation I’ve ever been in. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Meg, come on,” Castiel insists, pulling her closer gently.

Meg resists for another moment and then sighs before finally turning around to face him. She looks a little less irritated, but she obviously is still miffed about the entire thing.

“Fine. But you don’t have to come with me,” she tells him. “I can ask Tom to be my plus one. I’m sure he’ll be delighted at the prospect of finding some other friend of ours to drunkenly flirt with.”

“I don’t mind coming with you,” Castiel replies. “This isn’t about you or me or him. This is about Sam and Ruby, who wants you to be there for her.”

“Yes, exactly. Which is why _you_ don’t have to come.”

“I don’t care that Dean’s going to be there…”

“Well, I do!” Meg cuts him off. “After everything he put you through? Are you kidding me? I mean, how would you feel if I was going somewhere we knew Luc would be at?”

And there it is. She isn’t mad at him, but at Dean, even when Castiel isn’t anymore.

“I’d probably borrow your dad’s baseball bat,” Castiel admits. He grabs Meg’s hands and holds them tighter. “But this is different. We were young, we were stupid and we made a lot of mistakes. It’s been years, Meg. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“But what if it matters to him?” Meg points out.

“I don’t think it will, but if it does, then that’s Dean’s problem, not mine. Not ours,” Castiel affirms. He puts an arm around Meg’s waist and brings her closer to him. “This is what matters to me, Meg. You and I. And you want to be there for Ruby and I want to be there for you because I know you hate wearing heels.”

“They’re just so impractical!” Meg agrees, shaking her head. But somehow, she seems a lot calmer. “Okay, fine. We’ll go.”

“Alright.”

“I will let Ruby and Sam know you’re coming,” she adds.

“It’s only fair.” Castiel hesitates for a moment. “I’m not sure Sam is aware of the… exact nature of my relationship with Dean, though.”

“See? That’s exactly what I mean!” Meg snaps again. “What kind of massive asshole wouldn’t want to shout from the rooftops they’re with you? Who wouldn’t be proud of being with you?”

“Meg…” Castiel starts, but he doesn’t need to continue.

“I know, I know,” Meg groans. “Different circumstances and all. But just so you know, I will be rude and standoffish to him.”

“Nothing I can really do to stop you,” Castiel replies. He’s smiling now, the initial tension of the conversation completely gone. “And just so you know, I think you will look adorable in a bridesmaid dress.”

Meg rolls her eyes at him, but her usual smirk has returned to her face. He leans over to kiss her and they stay there, holding each other for so long they don’t even notice the microwave beep announcing their dinner is ready.

 

* * *

 

In the following weeks, Dean slips from Castiel’s mind completely. He has a lot of things to plan for Valentine’s Day, from what meal he’s going to prepare for Meg, to how he’s going to bring up the fact he’s proposing. He tries preparing a speech, but all his drafts come out so flowery they end up sounding insincere. And Meg already hates poetry and declarations of love to begin with; the combination of the two will either annoy her or make her laugh in his face, which isn’t the effect he’s looking for. So, in the end, he decides he’ll just speak from the heart when the moment comes.

When February rolls around, however, he ends discovering another thing Meg hates entirely: weddings.

Two days before Valentine’s Day, she marches into the apartment holding a cream envelope with little roses on the corner. She throws it over the table where Castiel is grading tests with a gasp of contempt.

“Look at that thing!” she demands.

It’s a simple wedding invitation. It has the same cream hue as the envelope and it has a header full of flowers and doves. In an elaborate cursive letter, it reads: “Sam and Ruby require your presence to the ceremony and celebration of their marriage”, followed by the date and location. The doves are a little excessive, but Castiel doesn’t think there’s anything especially offensive about them.

“It’s hideous!” Meg insists. “How much do you think they had to pay to have these things done?”

“Well, I’m sure they wanted something especial for people to remember the event,” Castiel comments.

Meg rolls her eyes and disappears in the kitchen to come back with a beer. It’s Friday afternoon and she doesn’t have to work tomorrow, so Castiel guesses it’s fine, but she usually doesn’t start drinking this early.

“I hate it,” Meg determines after taking a swig and throwing another glare at the invitation.

“Why?” Castiel frowns.

“I hate the whole culture of weddings,” Meg replies. “They’re this super uncomfortable, unnecessarily expensive things… why waste thousands of dollars in a dress you’re only going to wear once, huh? Or on a stupid ring that doesn’t even mean anything?”

Castiel blinks at her, a little taken aback at that declaration.

“You don’t like… diamond rings?”

“God, no,” Meg replies, wrinkling her nose. “They’re a scam. Did you know diamond sellers invented the whole ‘give a ring to propose’ bullshit so they could up their sells?”

“I did not,” Castiel confesses. He’s thinking about the little box in the pocket of his coat. He’s taken to carry it with him because he’s paranoid she might find it, just like she found the mix tapes. “But… maybe if the ring is… a family relic of some sort…?”

“Who has family relics anymore?” Meg scoffs, skeptical. “No. I don’t even know why Ruby is going along with all of this. I know for a fact she hates weddings too.”

“Well… maybe… she feels different because it’s her own wedding?” Castiel suggests. He rubs the back of his neck, which usually is a dead giveaway Meg would notice immediately, but she’s too busy ranting about weddings in general to pay attention.

“You know what I want for our wedding? Quick trip to Las Vegas. No witnesses, no stupid party where we have to see all the people we don’t like. I mean, you hate your entire family, why would we want to invite them anyway? And, we can have the honeymoon right there! Who needs anything but a lot of gambling and drinking to have a good time…?”

She keeps going, but Castiel isn’t listening to her anymore. He’s almost too ecstatic about the fact she’s talking about “their” wedding as if it is a matter of fact that they’re getting married. They’re eloping to Vegas and getting married in an empty white chapel by a guy dressed up like Elvis. They can avoid all the awkwardness and cumbersome of a big celebration Meg doesn’t want anyway. Yes, that sounds like a perfect plan, why didn’t he think of that before?

Meg stops mid-sentence and stares at him, almost as if she’s only now realizing the words that had just come out of her mouth.

“Oh, no,” she mutters, looking at him with growing horror in her eyes. “No, Clarence. Don’t get any ideas. I was talking hypothetically. Wipe the stupid smile of your face, please.”

“Alright,” Castiel says, but he makes no attempt to stop beaming.

“I mean it!” Meg warns him. “I don’t want to get married. So you can just…”

“You don’t want to get married _ever_ or you don’t want to get married _at this moment_ of your life?” Castiel asks. “Because those are two very different things and I think you should…”

“You know what I meant,” she interrupts him.

“No, I don’t think I do.” Castiel drags his chair closer to her and grabs her hand. “Weren’t you the one saying we should feel proud of each other, of being together?”

“That wasn’t what I meant and that’s emotional blackmail,” she accuses him, but she doesn’t make any attempt at pulling her hand away, which indicates she’s not really angry. Just a little annoy by the topic of conversation and could go into full irritation if he’s not careful. He stays silence while she puffs a couple of times, as if she’s trying to find the right words to express what she feels. “Look, I love you,” she says through gritted teeth, as if she’s admitting something mildly embarrassing. Castiel accepts it anyway, because he knows she always has trouble with that kind of thing. “You’re a great guy, the greatest guy, and I’m glad we’re together. I never thought I could… after Luc, I never thought…”

Castiel takes her hand to his lips and plants a kiss right over her knuckles.

“I know,” he says. He doesn’t want her to talk about things that make her sad.

“But marriage is just a different beast,” she continues, after shaking her head. “A complete different level of… this is going to make me sound like an asshole.” She sighs and looks up at him. “I think right now we should leave good enough alone.”

Castiel tries not to panic. He tries not to let go of her hand or react in any way. But those words manage to erase the smile from his face and Meg realizes, of course.

“I sounded just like Lord Voldemort, didn’t I?”

“Eerily,” Castiel admits. He’s freaking out and he can’t hide it or help it, but what he can do is rationalize. Except he can find the words in his mind to do so and the panic is growing and he doesn’t want to do or say anything he might regret…

Meg puts her hands on his cheeks and makes him look at her.

“Listen to me, this has nothing to do with you,” she tells him firmly. “It’s me. I got in trouble before for rushing into things and I know – my brain knows that you would never hurt me like that. But I can’t help being scared. What if we get married and I screw it up? What if we fall apart? I love you and I love what we have too much to feel comfortable risking it. Can you understand that?”

Castiel takes a couple of deep breaths. Yes, he can definitely understand that. He kisses the inside of her palms, relishing in the warm of her skin, letting the fact that she’s there and she’s with him and she’s not going anywhere console him. After a few moments, he manages to calm down.

“Okay,” he mutters. He chuckles. Oh, God, he dodged a bullet right there. What if he had popped the question the day after tomorrow? He would have scared her even more than she scared him right now.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he says, but he knows he needs to come up with an excuse fast, because he’s still laughing. “Uh… you just gave me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech.”

Meg reflects on it and then also smiles about it.

“I guess I did.”

He presses his forehead against hers and they both laugh like idiots.

Castiel doesn’t change his plans for Valentine’s Day much. He moves the romantic dinner from Sunday to Saturday night and instead of the ring, he gives Meg a red lingerie set. She loves it and declares that, starting at midnight, they’re not leaving the bed until Monday. And they don’t.

 

* * *

 

Important events such as weddings have a way to sneak up on you. Castiel doesn’t even realize there were only two weeks left for Ruby and Sam’s until he walks in on Meg trying out a lavender dress in front of the mirror. In his opinion, it looks really lovely, though Meg argues the bow that adorns one of the straps is excessive. However, she folds it carefully back into its box and calls Ruby that night to confirm she’s received it and that it fits her.

“By the way, are you sure there’s no problem with my boyfriend coming along?” he hears her ask. “Okay. No reason, I’m just asking. Yeah, I’m sure it’ll go perfectly, Rubes. We’ll see you.”

She then does her signature catlike walk, because he only realizes she walked into the kitchen when he turns around and sees her picking up the glasses.

“She says Sam told her he’s actually excited to see you,” she tells him. “She made no mention of Dean.”

“Very well,” Castiel accepts, with a shrug. “We’ll see how it goes then.”

“Are you sure you’re not…?”

Castiel grabs her by the shoulder, dips her and gives her a deep kiss. He can’t explain why he does such a thing, except that it just feels right to do so. Meg kisses him back, holding onto his neck without another word.

“Okay,” she smiles when they break apart. “Guess that’s all, then.”

And it really is. Two weekends later, they pack their bags in Castiel’s Lincoln car (Meg always jokes about hating how it’s golden and calls it the “pimpmobile”) and they’re off. The road trip is actually pretty pleasant until Meg requests a water bottle and Castiel feels around in her duffle bag to find something that’s definitely… odd.

“Meg?” he asks, pulling it out. “Why did you bring your dad’s baseball bat?”

“Protection,” Meg replies, with a little shrug without taking her eyes off the road. “You never know when you will meet a face in need of bashing.”

Castiel tries to take it philosophically.

“Please do not bash my ex-boyfriend’s face,” he begs. “Not because he doesn’t deserve it, but because he also happens to be the best man at your friend’s wedding and it may put a serious dent in it if you send him to the hospital.”

Meg pouts her lips.

“You never let me do anything fun. Fine,” she accepts before Castiel begins protesting again. “I won’t do anything to him. If he stays in his lane, that is.”

Castiel takes the promises he can get.

They park on the hotel where the wedding will be taking place and Castiel can’t help but to think things must have worked out fine for Sam. It’s a four stars place with a garden and a fountain in the entrance, a valet that offers to park their car for them and take their bags inside. There are marble steps that lead upstairs and a man dressed in a suit that looks right out of a forties movie behind the counter. He gives them the magnetic cards for their room, orders the valet to take their bags up and invites them to take a refreshment at their buffet, all without losing the smile in his face.

“Not too shabby,” Meg comments, nodding to herself. “I wonder if we can trick Ruby into paying for some extravagant room service.”

“Well, I’m certain…” Castiel starts, but he isn’t able to finish, as someone shrieks Meg’s name from the other side of the buffet. Next thing he knows, the same brunette girl from the New Years’ party picture is by their side and engulfing Meg in a tight hug.

“It’s so great to see you!”

“You too!” Meg exclaims and they both beam at each other with excitement. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Hi, I’m Ruby,” she introduces herself then, extending her hand towards Castiel. “You must be Cas. I heard a lot about you.”

Castiel is surprised by how short she is. For the things Meg had told him (about how she barged into a fight between her and her brute of an ex-boyfriend, Luc), he had imagined her a little more imposing. But Ruby is a few inches shorter even than Meg and she looks even smaller when her fiancé approaches them.

“Cas!” Sam exclaims with a smile full of dimples as he pulls him into a hug. Castiel is also surprised by how tall and bulky he is. He was already pretty big when he was nineteen, but now not only does it seem like he’s pushing six and a half feet tall, it’s also like he’s been hitting the gym on daily basis.

“Sam,” he greets him with a smile. “It’s been a while.”

“You know when Ruby told me you were her friend’s boyfriend, I couldn’t believe it,” Sam comments. “It’s a small world.”

“Yeah. Tiny,” Meg quips. To someone who didn’t know her, it may seem like an innocent observation, but Castiel can tell even the subtler shades of sarcasm in her tone.

“Well, I’m happy to see you,” he says quickly. “And congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Sam passes a possessive arm around Ruby’s shoulder and pulls her closer. She laughs hard and happy as she clings to him. “So glad you could come. Hey, you know who is going to be just elated to see you?”

Castiel can imagine the answer to that question, but before he can correct that notion, there’s a shatter of broken glass by the bar.

In the flurry of movement as the waitresses move around to pick up the broken glass and mop whatever liquid it contained, Castiel has time to prepare himself.

It still hits him like a punch in the gut the way no photography or memory could.

Dean stands around the mess, apologizing and laughing as he says:

“My bad. Sorry, guys. Butter fingers.”

“Sir, please step aside so we can clean.”

“Yeah, right, sorry,” Dean mutters.

He looks around, as if he’s trying to find an excuse or maybe an escape route. When he can’t find neither, he squares his shoulder, smiles (a million dollars smile, the smile that made Castiel think of a famous actor when they first met) and strolls towards their group. Confident steps. As if he hasn’t got a single care in the world.

“Hey… Cas,” he says, making a pause as if he’s looking to remember his name, even though Castiel knows for a fact that he does, just as well as him. “Long time no see.”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replies curtly, holding his gaze and waiting for him to indicate how he wants to go about this.

Dean sways on his feet as if he wants to go in for a hug like Sam did, but something stops him. Castiel doesn’t know if it’s the fact he’s holding Meg’s hand or that she’s giving him a Glare of Death without losing her smirk. It might be a combination of the two. Dean extends his hand as if he wants to shake Castiel’s, but changes his mind halfway when he realizes how impersonal that gesture is, and rubs his neck instead.

It’s all very painfully uncomfortable and Castiel is sure even Ruby and Sam can tell.

“What are you doing here? I mean… no one told me you were coming,” Dean blurts out, maybe trying to justify his complete lack of preparation.

“I know,” Sam says, still smiling out of pure courtesy, Castiel is certain. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh, I’m very surprised,” Dean says, barking out a forced laughter. “Shocked, even, you could say. I am… you… you look good, Cas.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replies. He doesn’t return the courtesy, because this is extending far too long. “This is my girlfriend, Meg.”

“Hi,” Meg replies. She doesn’t try to offer her hand to Dean and doesn’t stop staring daggers into him. She also offers no explanation as to her presence there. It seems she’s just willing to let Dean drown in the awkwardness, which isn’t exactly unexpected.

“Nice to meet you,” Dean says, although whether he’s being sincere or not, there’s no way to tell. “Well, I was just… just going upstairs…”

“Oh, but don’t you want to get another glass of juice?” Meg says. Her smile is pure poison now.

“No. I’ll just… I just might drop it. Again,” Dean explains, trying to laugh it all off again. “So, I’m just gonna go outside… enjoy the weather or…”

He steps back, bumps into a table, mumbles something under his breath that sounds like “okay” and disappears through the garden door without another word. Castiel has the impression he’s restraining himself not to break into a sprint.

“What was that?” Ruby asks.

“I don’t know,” Sam says, cringing. “I thought he’ll be happy to see you, Cas. You guys were best friends back in college, weren’t you?”

“Oh, boy,” Meg says. Her voice trembles in the way it does when she’s trying to suffocate a laughter.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Castiel sighs.

“More than you can ever imagine,” Meg confesses, with a chuckle.

Ruby and Sam exchange a very confused look.


	2. Chapter 2

“I mean, I knew you guys didn’t exactly part friends,” Sam admits a few minutes later, when they’re all sat around a table and having some coffee. “But, uh…”

“So Dean didn’t tell you the reason for our fallout?”

“No, he just said you guys had a fight.”

“Well, if he hasn’t disclosed that to you, then he must have a reason for it and it’s not my place to do it,” Castiel says, as diplomatically as he can. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Oh, but now I want to know!” Ruby protests.

“Ruby,” Sam sighs.

“Sorry, I’m nosey.” Ruby sips from her cup, but for her self-proclaimed nosiness, she doesn’t insist. “So how was your trip?”

Meg gives her a detailed account of it and they two carry the rest of the conversation, talking about the upcoming wedding, who else Ruby has invited (a lot of mutual friends from their med-school, apparently) and the bachelorette party they’re having the following night, right before the wedding. They have a rehearsal dinner in a couple of hours and Sam and Ruby really need to get back to that, so they finish their coffee and Meg and Castiel go upstairs to freshen up.

“Look at this place!” Meg comments when they walk in.

She’s absolutely right: the room is spacious, the bed looks like it’s big enough for three or four people, a small table with complimentary chocolate bars and robes. There’s a balcony overlooking the gardens. Castiel opens the doors and takes a peek. He sees no trace of Dean anywhere.

“There’s a whirlpool tub, Clarence!” Meg calls out from the bathroom. “Holy shit, they’re going all out here.”

“They probably want to get it right,” Castiel replies. “Most people only want to get married once.”

Meg steps out in time to see him closing the balcony doors.

“How are you?” she asks, toning down her enthusiasm at the room’s luxury.

“I’m fine, why are you asking?”

Meg crooks an eyebrow at him. They know each other all too well to play this game.

“No, really, I’m fine,” Castiel insists and it’s mostly true. “It was… a shock seeing him, it’s true, but… I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Meg steps forward and grabs his arm. “We’re gonna have to see him again at the dinner tonight. If it’s too much, just say you have a headache and we’ll escape.”

“I don’t need a safe word for escaping my ex-boyfriend, Meg,” Castiel says. “In any case, it’s him who should not want to see me.”

“I know.” Meg’s eyes glimmer at the memory. “Did you see how he ran? That was hilarious.”

Castiel chuckles. It was pretty hilarious and he’s certain Dean must be feeling a bit humiliated at it all. it was childish to feel vindicated for that, but he couldn’t really help it.

They only have a couple of hours to take a quick nap, shower and get dressed for the rehearsal dinner. The hotel has more than one ballroom so they get lost and arrive five minutes late, but luckily people still aren’t sitting. The other bridesmaid hug Meg tight, all squealing and exclaiming how great it was to see each other. Castiel stands backwards after the correspondent presentations, holding a glass of champagne and feeling a bit lost until someone taps him in the shoulder.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Charlene!” Castiel exclaims, surprised.

“Oh, my God, you’re still a weirdo,” Charlie laughs. She looks just as Castiel remembers her, except she’s cut her red hair very short. She’s wearing a sober pantsuit and holding the hand of a brunette girl with grey eyes that she introduces as his girlfriend, Dorothy.

“How you’ve been?”

“Great, great. I’m living the dream. Got a job at Google, I travel a lot, I have a hot girlfriend,” Charlie says. Dorothy giggles and shakes her head at Charlie. “But who cares about me? You have to sit at our table and tells us all about you. We have to catch up.”

“I’m sorry, I think I’m at the main table,” Castiel says. “My girlfriend is one of the bridesmaids.”

“Oh, but I’m sure she won’t mind. And Sam and Ruby won’t mind,” Charlie insists, speaking very fast. Castiel remembers that’s what she usually did when nervous.

“What’s going on?” he asks, frowning.

“Nothing. Why would you think there’s something going on?”

“Red, he’s onto us,” Dorothy tells her and turns to Castiel. “Dean asked to convince you to sit at our table because he’s trying to avoid you.”

“Oh,” Castiel mutters, while Charlie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Okay, yes, that happened,” Charlie says. “He just thought it would be… awkward.”

“Why would it?” Castiel asks. Charlie blinks owlishly at him and he realizes that wasn’t the smartest question. “Right. But, no, it won’t be awkward.”

“Are you sure?”

“It was a long time ago, we’re both adults.” Castiel shrugs. He’s starting to wish people would stop asking him if he can handle being in the same room as Dean. “Trust, it’ll be fine. It’s all water under the bridge.”

He would live to regret those words.

Not a minute later (luckily, because he was coming to realize there were only so many things he could talk about with an old friend from college) the waiters start indicating everyone where to sit. As he guessed, he and Meg have a place at the main table, but Dean’s efforts to avoid him prove unnecessary: he’s sat right by Sam’s side near the middle, while he and Meg are the far end on Ruby’s side. Lilith, a blonde woman with a childlike demeanor, drinks a bit too much champagne with her dinner and brings up a lot of anecdotes about the days as classmates with Meg.

“She was brilliant, honestly. The best of her class, we were always competing. Such a shame she had to drop out,” she says, with a giggle. “And not only that, she had the hottest boyfriend of all. You remember him, right? Luc. He had the nicest ass.”

Meg laughs along awkwardly, but Castiel notices the grip she has on his hand tightens.

“No offense to you, darling,” Lilith continues, shooting him a toothy smile. “But he was definitely so much hotter.”

“Yeah, I guess he was,” Meg interrupts her and the sharp edge of her smile indicates Castiel she’s about to lash out. “I mean, if you were into physical and psychological abuse, that is.”

Lilith’s smile falters a little bit, as if she’s no sure how to respond to that. Castiel abruptly changes the topic by asking Lilith about her practice.

Despite that, he thinks they manage to navigate the night pretty well. Instead of deserts, there’s a table with different kinds of pies (Castiel can almost tell that was Dean’s idea) that guests can grab a plate from. Meg doesn’t like sweet things, but Castiel decides to risk it. He makes his way to it and stands around, wondering what he should get for a few seconds.

“Try the pecan,” a gruff voice tells him by his side. “It’s really good.”

Castiel doesn’t know why his first impulse is to flee without any sort of pie, but he manages to get it under control before he turns to confront him.

“Hello again, Dean.”

“Heya,” Dean says. He’s smiling again, but he doesn’t look as agitated as he did hours before. Even he knows that wasn’t his finest moment, because he adds: “Hey, sorry about earlier. I panicked a little. I was… not expecting that. At all.”

“Yes, I understand,” Castiel nods. They stand face to face. Castiel holds an empty plate while Dean has a half-eaten piece of pie in his. It’s pretty clear he’s eating it there because he wants to get a second one as soon as he’s done. Castiel thinks, with a completely unexpected fondness, that his eating habits have not improved with the years. He catches himself before he makes that comment and shakes his head. “This is weird.”

“Dude, it’s so weird!” Dean exclaims. He seems almost relieved that Castiel acknowledges too. “You’re dating Ruby’s friend? What are the odds?”

Castiel smirks. That was the same thing he and Meg were wondering as soon as they’d found out. He really feels a little bad after all. He’s has month to process the fact they were going to meet again and it still made an impact on him. He can’t imagine how much worse Dean is feeling and despite it all, he wants to give him some leverage.

“Well, perhaps then we should start over,” he suggests. He stretches his hand towards Dean. “How are you?”

Dean fidgets for a moment, uncertain. But in the end, he accepts the shake. His hand is warm and firm in Castiel’s.

“I’m good, man,” he says. He squeezes for a second and then he lets go. “And, uh… I mean it: it’s great to see you.”

Castiel wishes he could say the same thing. Not because he isn’t glad to see Dean, but because now that the initial startle has worn off, he’s not sure what to do or say. What’s an appropriate topic of conversation with the man that broke your heart many years ago? How do you begin to “catch up”, as Charlie put it, with someone like that? Dean is as disconcerted as him. He shifts the weight of his body from one foot to the other and clears his throat noisily.

“So… Meg, huh?”

“Yes,” Castiel smiles, happy that Dean brought up a topic he can talk about for hours. He tells them the story of how they met while he serves himself some pie: the broken water pipe at his school, his split forehead when he hit it in the lockers, how Meg had off-handedly flirted with him while she patched him up. “Soon it’s our three years anniversary. We met in May, but I had to chase her for a week before she accepted to have a date with me – her excuse was that she didn’t think I’d remember her flirting since I had a concussion. And then we had to wait three weeks more until our schedules aligned. But it was all worth it.”

“Awesome, cool,” Dean mutters. He puts a piece of pie in his mouth and chews for a while. “Three years. That’s… that’s a lot.”

Castiel doesn’t think it is. It is his longest relationship after their break-up, but they’re still a year short of the time he spent with Dean. But it feels much longer because he and Meg aren’t in the use of having violent fights and walking out on each other for weeks at a time. He doesn’t points this out to Dean.

“What about you?” he asks, casually. “Are you with someone?”

“No,” Dean says, a little too fast. He clears his throat again and continues. “No, I just… I just came out of a relationship. Her name was Lisa. We were together a while and it was complicated ‘cause she had a kid, you know? Ben. Man, I adored that kid. But in the end it was for the best that we just… yeah.”

He doesn’t offer up any more details and Castiel doesn’t press him for them. By the way his gaze darkens even though he’s keeping up his smile, Castiel can tell it’s been hard on him. It’s amazing how he still remembers those little details about him.

“But, Meg seems great,” Dean says.

“She is. She’s so passionate and hard-working. She’s studying to get her medical degree and I couldn’t be prouder.”

“My ears are tingling,” Meg’s smoky voice comes from behind him. A second later, her arm lassoes around Castiel’s. “Are you talking about me?”

“Only good things,” Castiel promises. “You want some pie?”

“No, thanks, Clarence. I’ve already had some coffee.”

“Oh, so you don’t like sweet things?” Dean intervenes. “I would’ve thought, since you’re dating Cas… you know, when we were roommates, he used to bake all the time.”

And the awkwardness they had barely managed to avoid returns in full force. Castiel wishes to flee again, but Meg merely laughs in Dean’s face.

“Roommates, huh? Is that what you called it?”

“She knows, Dean,” Castiel clarifies before his ex can put his foot in his mouth again. “She knows the truth.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Dean says, trying to hide just how taken aback he is with a smile. If Castiel knew him a little less, perhaps it could’ve fooled him. “But the question still stands. Cas was always a great cook.”

“Yes, he is. I would’ve starved if it wasn’t for him,” Meg says. “And it’s really cute to see him dance while he chops vegetables.”

“Oh, he still does that? Does he still insist all the glasses have to be bottoms up when you put them away?”

“Yes,” Meg laughs. “And he washes the kitchen gloves.”

“I don’t understand why you’re harping on me for liking things orderly,” Castiel protests as Meg and Dean both chuckle at him. “As I recall it, you were also a bit of a neat freak, Dean Winchester. You made the bed the minute we got up.”

Dean’s laughter becomes a little colder, but it doesn’t disappear.

“Yeah, well, you know,” he mutters. “I just… did that because our bed was always a mess, since you hogged all the sheets.”

“Ah, he still does that, too,” Meg says.

“Really? How do you put up with it?”

“Well, you know.” Meg steps closer to Castiel and puts an arm around his waist. “I cling onto him really tight.”

Castiel finishes his last bite of pie and hastily puts the plate down on the table before placing his own arm around Meg’s shoulders.

“This has been… fun,” he says, though of course that isn’t the first words that comes to his mind. Or the second, or the third. “But I really think we should go up. I’m getting a bit of a headache.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Meg says, patting his cheek with her free hand. The gesture surprises Castiel. She’s not usually this affectionate in public. “I think I have something in our room that’ll help with that.”

“Thanks. Uh… goodbye, Dean.”

“Yeah, bye,” Dean mutters.

Castiel does his best not to look over his shoulder as they leave the ballroom, but he still cranes his neck when they walk into the elevator. Dean is nowhere to be seen anymore.

“Sorry you had a headache, Harry,” Meg mutters by his side. “But that’s what you get when you talk face to face with Lord Voldemort.”

“I don’t really have a headache. I just wanted to get out of there because it was getting really uncomfortable,” Castiel confesses, but when he turns to look at Meg, he can tell it wasn’t necessary to clarify that.

“No shit. What did it for you, Dean smoothly stalking you to the dessert’s table or clumsily trying to find out if you had told me about him?”

“I don’t think that’s what he was doing,” Castiel replies.

“Whatever, Cas,” she groans, letting go of him.

‘Cas’. She’s mad at him.

The elevator pings its arrival and the doors opened. Meg steps out and heads down the hallway to their room without waiting for him. For someone who claims to hate high heels, she moves really fast on them. Castiel almost has to spring to keep up.

“Wait, Meg, I’m sorry,” he says as she takes the card out of her clutch purse and opens the door. “I… actually, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

She’s so angry she can’t think of a more biting remark. This is bad. She marches into the bathroom without saying another word.

Castiel waits. He begins undressing very slowly, trying to understand the reason Meg is so upset. Yes, he struck up a conversation with Dean, but that didn’t mean anything. He spent most of it talking about Meg anyway. He thinks about telling her this when she comes out of the bathroom, wrapped up in their complimentary white robe, but she doesn’t even bother looking at him. Instead, she sits on the bed with her back turned to him and starts applying cream on her legs.

Still not saying a word to him.

This manages to tick him off.

“So are we going to talk about it?” he asks.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Meg lashes back. “Your ex-boyfriend is still hang up on you and you’re humoring him. Should I stick around for you to dump me or would you rather me walking out now?”

Castiel stares at the back of her head, paralyzed. He understood the words she said, but he just can’t believe them. Is that what she thought was going on? Is that why she’s so angry with him?

“That is ridiculous.”

“Is it? ‘Cause he seemed pretty eager to talk to you from where I was standing.”

“Well, even if that was the case – which I don’t think it was, by the way,” Castiel argues. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t care what Dean thinks? Don’t you trust me?”

Meg stands up and finally turns around to look at him. She looks beautiful even when she’s angry, her eyes shining bright and her lips pursed as she’s trying to hold back a gnarl.

“Should I?” she asks, and if she had walked around the bed and punched him in the gut, Castiel wouldn’t have been more astonished. “Because if it was anyone else, anyone at all, I wouldn’t care if they were throwing themselves at you. But this is Dean Winchester, the guy you would go to hell for.”

“That was a figure of speech,” Castiel protests. “And that isn’t the case anymore. Too many things have happened since. I’m with you now and you’re the only person I want to be with.”

Meg crosses her arms against her chest, defensive. She doesn’t have to say another word for him to realize what’s going on.

“You don’t believe me.”

He’s hurt. He’s more than hurt, he’s furious. Yes, it’s not the first time someone has accused him of being a potential cheater over unfounded prejudices that have to do with his sexuality. But he never thought such accusations would come from Meg. He thought she was different, more open-minded. He thought she knew him.

She takes a deep breath and rubs her temples.

“I didn’t mean to… I don’t want us to fight, Clarence. Especially over this.”

“Why can’t you just trust me?” Castiel asks, frustrated.

“I trust you. I don’t trust him. I hate this,” she says. “I hate that he’s here, and I hate the way he looks at you. I knew I shouldn’t have brought you.”

“Meg, nothing is going to happen,” Castiel insists.

“Isn’t it?” Meg lets out a high pitch skeptical laughter. “And what if Dean begs you to come back to him? What if he tells you he made a terrible mistakes and things will be different now?”

“That will never happen.”

“Right, because he’s _so_ over you.”

“No, because even if he still feels something for me, he’s too proud to act on it,” Castiel replies. “I know Dean. I know he would never expose himself to hurt like that. It was his choice that we ended the way we did ages ago and he’s going to stick by it. So again, you don’t have to worry about him.”

Meg still doesn’t look convince, but she let her arms fall to the sides of her body. She relaxes her shoulders and doesn’t try to get away when Castiel walk up to her and puts his hands on her cheeks to get him to look at him.

“Please, trust me,” he begs. “I need to know you trust me.”

“I trust you,” she assures him. “I would feel a lot more comfortable if you gave Dean the silent treatment the entire weekend, though.”

“I’m not going to do that. I’m thirty-five years old, not fifteen.”

“Fine.” Meg huffs. “But don’t do your usual niceness and friendliness with him. He might take it the wrong way.”

“He won’t take it any way, because… we’re just arguing in circles,” Castiel interrupts himself. “We’re not getting anywhere and it’s not going to change anything. I can’t control what Dean does, but I can control what I do. And I’m telling you, it won’t be a problem.”

Meg places a hand on his and breathes in.

“Alright, Clarence. If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

The hotel serves a continental breakfast that Castiel eats too much of and Meg, too little. Last night was the first time they went to bed angry, because even though they agreed to stop arguing, that didn’t put their minds at ease. On this morning, Meg is quiet and Castiel is babbling on about the news he’s reading in his phone just to try to fill out the silence. It’s not precisely working, and much less when the rest of the wedding entourage shows up and Ruby starts laying the plans for the day.

“We have a rehearsal at the chapel and then we have a fitting to make sure all the dresses are ready. And afterwards, we are going to a bar to get smashed because it’s my bachelorette, bitches!”

Lilith and Cassie, the other two maids of honor, cheer and clap enthusiastically. Meg also gives a clap he can tell is half-hearted, but her friends don’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“You don’t have to come to the rehearsal,” Meg points out when they finish breakfast and they’re getting ready to go. “It’s probably going to be super boring. You can stay and watch pay-per-view. Or you can go take a ride around town.”

“I don’t mind going,” Castiel insists.

Meg looks over his shoulder and when Castiel turns around, he sees Sam and Dean talking near the door. He tries with all his might not to get irritated that’s the reason Meg doesn’t want him to go.

“I’ll take a book,” he says.

“Alright,” Meg ends accepting with a sigh.

They find the chapel rather easily and just as Meg predicted, there’s not much to do except sit around while Sam and Ruby practice saying their votes. It actually seems like it’s going to be a very pretty ceremony. The bridesmaid joke about getting burned just from being inside a church and Pastor Jim tut-tuts at them. Castiel sits in one of the back pews and tries to focus on his book, but the voices distract him and he ends up lifting his head. He watches the sun pouring into the tinted glass windows and smiles to himself.

It’s been a while since he has been in a church. Last time had been five or six years ago, the Christmas he spent with his family and Daphne. He didn’t want to go to the service, but his mother insisted. Castiel’s concept of God has changed a lot since his teenage years. He used to think God was this all-seeing, mighty figure that would smite him if he put a toe over the line. He was so scared and trying to follow every rule it made him insecure.

Then he kissed Dean and no lightning fell from the sky to strike him, so he went through a nihilist stage in which he didn’t believe there was a God at all or if He existed, He didn’t give a crap what mortals did. Now, for some reason, he’s circled back into being a believer. Not God as the church preaches, but a more loving, compassionate figure that accepts everyone equally. He doesn’t pray and he doesn’t read the Bible, though he can still remember entire passages from it. He wonders why Sam wants to have his wedding there, since neither he nor Dean were very religious when they were in college…

“Having a chat with the Old Man in the sky?”

Dean’s voice startles him. He didn’t realize it, but he’s standing on the pew next to him, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and the same cocky smile Castiel knows so well. Castiel shoots a quick glance at the altar, but Meg seems busy talking with the other girls and Sam.

And then he mentally chastises himself mentally for doing that. What does it matter if he talks to Dean for five minutes? There’s no harm done in it and he isn’t going to indulge Meg’s insecurities at all.

“Not exactly.” Castiel tells him what he was wondering and Dean lowers his eyes.

“Well, you know, I’m still not convinced there’s anyone out there that gives a crap about us,” he confesses. He sits on the pew next to Castiel. “But Sammy seems to think so. He turned to all of this after our dad died. I mean, not excessively, but still. He prays a lot more than we used to growing up.”

“Your dad died?” Castiel asks, surprised. He never had the chance to meet the illustrious John Winchester, but he’s heard enough from Dean’s stories to know he was a sturdy, inflexible man and that he and Sam frequently disagreed on things. Dean did too, he just wasn’t s confrontational about it.

“Yeah. Heart attack,” Dean tells him. “It was right after… well, they year after we graduated. Sam needed some help with his tuition, so I started working double shifts in a friend of the family’s scrapyard ‘cause that was the only job I could find. It was a pretty crazy year.”

He doesn’t say it, but Castiel understands the context of his words. All of this must have been right after their break-up, when he was travelling aimlessly through the country trying to figure out what to do with himself.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nah, don’t be.” Dean shrugs. “Shit happens. What about you. How’s your mom and… man, how many sibling did you have again?”

Castiel smiles despite himself. He and Dean used to joke all the time that Castiel came from a family so numerous it was impossible to keep track of how many they were.

“They’re fine, I suppose. I don’t exactly keep in touch with them. Except for Hannah. We Skype sometimes.”

Dean says nothing to this. In fact, he seems too astonished to react for a couple of seconds.

“What? You’re telling me you never got around patching things up with them?” he asks when he manages to find his voice again. Castiel shrugs, because he doesn’t really have the time to explain the complexity of his relationship with his family. Dean rubs his mouth like he’s nervous. “I hope that wasn’t because of… you know…”

“Oh, no. Well, yes, it was,” he admits. “Originally. But, uh… that fight helped me see them for what they really were and I can’t say I liked what I saw. We would’ve had a falling out sooner or later.”

He doesn’t say that the fight probably wouldn’t have been as harsh and final as it was if it wasn’t for Dean. But he’s telling the truth. The experience with Daphne helped him proved that.

“Well, I’m glad things turned out well for you,” Dean says after a pause.

“You too,” Castiel says. “Sam seems to be… uh, thriving.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s making the big bucks as a lawyer.” Dean’s face light up with pride, the way it always does when it comes to speaking about his little brother. “You know he was the valedictorian of his class? At least three of his college classmates came to tell him they still remember his speech…”

He continues rambling about Sam’s success and how happy he is for his brother. He mentions he wasn’t sure about Ruby at first (Castiel has the impression he still hasn’t exactly warmed up to his future sister-in-law), but that Sam wants this and that’s what matter the most. Castiel doesn’t even have to question why he’s there and talking to him instead of a the altar performing his best man duties when the rest of the wedding party approaches them.

“Hey,” Meg says. She makes sure to throw an icy cold stare at Dean before turning to Castiel. “The girls and I are going to the fitting and the make-up test.”

“Alright.” That was the plan all along. He isn’t sure why Meg is telling him about it.

“We won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

“That’s… expected.” Castiel frowns, still not catching her drift. Ruby steps around Meg and intervenes.

“Do you mind lending us your car? You can catch a ride with the boys. I would ask you, Dean, but I know how particular you are about your… ‘baby’.” She draws air quotes. Lilith and Cassie giggle and Sam shakes his head, but he also seems very amused.

Castiel is perplexed.

“You still drive the Impala?” he asks, turning to Dean.

“She can still roll.” Dean shrugs, defensive.

“That car was already thirty years old when we were in college!”

“Hey, she’s a classic lady! You better show her some respect!” Dean raises a finger at him and Castiel can’t choke back the laughter. There are things that are bound to remain unchanged, after all. He reaches for the keys inside his pocket and hands them to Meg.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

“Sure,” Meg mutters. She leaves without kissing him goodbye, walking towards the church’s exit in long strides that leave her friends behind in just a few seconds.

So, she’s still angry. And this time, he’s not the only one who notices.

“Hey, is there a problem with Meg?” Sam asks as he, Dean and Castiel head outside as well. “She seems a little… on edge. Is there a problem with your room or…?”

“No, not at all. The room is great.”

“Tell me about it. It’s got robes and a whirlpool tub.” Dean laughs.

The Impala – his “baby” – is parked right outside and just as Dean predicted, it still looks in great shape. The black paint glimmer under the spring sun and when Dean turned the key in the ignition, the motor roared to life with ease.

“Bet this brings out a lot of memories, huh?” he comments, looking at Castiel in the rearview mirror. (Sam instinctively reached for the passenger seat and Castiel didn’t want to dispute it).

“It does, actually,” Castiel confesses.

He moves his hand on the soft leather seat and again, there’s a warm feeling in his chest and a thrum in his heart he isn’t expecting at all. He also doesn’t know where it’s coming from. His mind is flooded with the dozens of times he was in that very same car, with Dean speeding down the open road without a fixed destination, singing out loud the rock songs he insisted that Castiel needed to know. He thinks fondly of the mix tapes he threw away. Why did he do that? That was a petty thing to do. The mix tapes had nothing to do with how his relationship with Dean ended. There were memories from better times.

“You guys really want to go back to the hotel right now?” Dean asks when they stop on a red light.

“What you have in mind?” Sam asks.

“We could take a tour around the town. There’s a overlook where you can see the valley and according to the stuck-up bellhop, it’s really lovely.”

“You hate sightseeing,” Sam points out.

“Well, yeah, but Cas has always been a nerd who likes that sort of thing,” Dean points out. “What do you say? It could be fun.”

Castiel is conflicted. On one side, he knows Meg will be royally pissed at him if he tells him he spent afternoon with Dean. _When_ he tells her, because she is his girlfriend and he keeps no secrets from her. On the other, Meg’s anger is irrational and completely unjustified. He is no longer mad at Dean, not after such a long time, and he sees no trouble in being nice to him. And besides, what is he going to do all day stuck in the hotel?

“It sounds interesting. I would like to see it.”

“Alright. One lovely sightseeing tour for us then,” Dean announces. “And I mean that literally, because Sam and I already had his stag party and this wet blanket wouldn’t let me take him to a strip club.”

“There are literally thousands of ways for us to celebrate that don’t involve me seeing half-naked women that aren’t my fiancée,” Sam protests.

“But none is as fun, am I right?”

“No, you’re not, Dean.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk!”

Castiel can’t help but to smile at the brothers banter. That also brings back a lot of memories of the times Sam went to spend in their apartment. It’s amazing to him that Sam never found what really happened between Castiel and Dean. Dean was careful to keep it hidden from him, which is something Castiel can’t quite understand. He gets that he would fear his father’s reaction, but Sam is a lot kinder and he would never stop supporting Dean.

It’s puzzling, but he really needs to stop thinking about it. It doesn’t makes a lick of difference now if Dean told Sam or not. The past is in the past.

The sightseeing bridge is just as lovely as the bellhop predicted. Sam and Ruby chose a beautiful small town lost among the mountains to get married at because Sam is thinking of buying a house there. He talks enthusiastically about the places they have already seen, big houses with front lawns where children can play.

“Oh, my God, why is Ruby even marrying you?” Dean asks, with a cringe of disgust. “When you met her she was all about casual and fun, and now you’re buying a house and picking kids names together. You’ve Sammified her.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sam replies, but there’s a beam in his face. “I was the first one surprised when she said yes. I had to ask like three times before she accepted.”

“Really?” Castiel turns to him and cocks his head. “What did it?”

“Honestly, I can’t tell. She just… changed her mind.”

“You thinking about popping the question, Cas?”

Dean’s tone is casual and he’s gazing away from him. But Castiel thinks he sees a certain tension in his posture, in the way he very pointedly holds himself away, that gives away he really cares about the answer. For a second, Castiel considers denying it, but that’s also very stupid of his part. What does it matter to Dean, anyway?

“Yes,” he admits. “Not right now, though. Meg has a lot on her plate with her studies, by I’m hoping we can get married before she starts her internship.”

That’s not the exact reason he hasn’t proposed, but it’s something he needs to consider.

“That’s great, man,” Sam says, nodding.

Dean’s reaction is a little more lukewarm.

“Yeah. Great. Just… great.”

Castiel can’t help but to feel a little confused. He though Dean would be happy for him. Why wouldn’t he? Or better yet, why would he? They’re not exactly friends, after all. It remains to see what they really are, if they are something at all. He doubts profoundly either would want to see the other after this weekend is over.

And he doesn’t know why that afflicts him. It shouldn’t.

He’s still reeling from the turmoil of those emotions he didn’t know he had when they return to the hotel, right after the sun is beginning to sink. Meg is already in their room, getting dressed for Ruby’s bachelorette.

“Where were you?” she asks before even greeting him.

She’s standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, wearing a short black dress Castiel has never seen. Her hair is still wet falling in like twisting vines over her shoulders and she’s halfway into applying her make-up. She looks beautiful and sexy, and Castiel gets another pang he can’t recognize in his chest. They’re going to a bar where there are probably going to be plenty of drunk or half-drunk men and he doesn’t want them slobbering all over his girlfriend. Especially not when they’re in a delicate moment of their relationship.

Of course, that is also incredibly stupid on his part. Meg is an adult. She can wear whatever she pleases.

What is wrong with him today?

He tells her the truth, because he sees no reason to lie about it, but as soon as he ends explaining, he realizes he was right to assume she wasn’t going to like it. Meg purses her lips and turns her attention fully back to the mirror without another word. And it’s this indifference that irritates Castiel.

“I actually had a really nice time.”

“Alright,” Meg says, manipulating the brush over her cheeks without another word.

“Dean and I talked a lot.”

“Good.”

“There was nothing inappropriate about it,” Castiel insists. “Sam was there too. I don’t know why you’re mad.”

Meg marches out of the bathroom and sits on the bed to put on her heels.

“I’m not mad,” she replies, adjusting the straps. “I don’t even care.”

“Well, good. Because you shouldn’t care.”

“I don’t.” Meg grabs her clutch purse. “I’m gonna go out with my friends and get drunk.”

“Have fun,” Castiel wishes her, bitterly. Meg slams the door in her wake.

Castiel sits on the bed and lets himself fall down on the covers with a sigh. Being snappy and passive-aggressive definitely isn’t going to help at all, but frankly, he has no clue what will. If Meg is jealous of Dean, then perhaps the problem will solve itself once the wedding is over and they’re back home. But then again, perhaps it won’t and he doesn’t want to think about what would happen then. Would returning the ring to Mr. Masters qualify as basis for having his head bashed with a baseball bat?

There’s a knock on the door and Castiel realizes he has been staring at the ceiling for the past fifteen minutes. For a second, his brain harbors the hope it’s Meg, who decided to tell her friends she couldn’t go after all and came back to talk things over with him, but of course, if that was the case, she would’ve used her magnetic card. He didn’t order anything and he can’t really imagine who it would be.

He’s definitely not expecting Dean when he opens the door, but there he is.

“Hey, Cas,” he greets him with a smile. “I was wondering what you were doing.”

“Why?” Castiel squints his eyes at him.

Dean must perceive that this isn’t really a good time, because he raises his hands defensively.

“Well, Sam is tending to some last minute wedding stuff and I know your girl went out with Ruby, so I just… I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for dinner or a beer or something. You know, to kill time. Plus, this hotel doesn’t have good cheeseburgers,” he explains. “And I would ask someone else, but Charlie and Dorothy are also out, I don’t know any of Sam’s college buddies and Bobby and Ellen, our godparents, they don’t get here until tomorrow and… just… no, you’re absolutely right, why would you want to go out with me?” he asks, even though Castiel hasn’t say a word. “It was stupid question, forget it.”

He turns around to leave, but he hasn’t even reached the end of the hallway when Castiel hears himself call out:

“Wait, Dean!”

Dean stops in his tracks and turns to look at him. He can’t hide the hopeful glimmer in his eyes and as it always seems to happen when it’s about it, Castiel decides everything else can go to hell.

“I could go for a bite.”

“Really? I mean… okay, yeah. Cool. Let’s go right now.”

“Let me just get my coat.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean puts on music way on the drive to the dinner and sings along, an unequivocal sign that he feels happy. He drums on the wheel and coaxes Castiel to join him. Castiel catches himself smiling at the silliness of it. Dean hasn’t changed too much in those years, he realizes. He seems a little bit warier and a little bit older, but at heart he is the same deceptively carefree boy that captivated Castiel all those years ago.

“Come on, Clarence, don’t tell me you’ve forgot the lyrics,” he jokes and Castiel shakes his head, amused. “Why does she call you that anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admits. “I’ve asked her many times, but she just laughs at me like it’s a joke I’m not getting.”

Dean doesn’t insist or tries to come up with a theory. He simply turns the volume up and sings at the top of his lungs.

As they park in front of the diner (it’s a small familiar place, not one of those big chain ones that Castiel knows Dean hates) and step inside, there’s a little voice in the back of Castiel’s head, a voice that sounds a lot like Meg’s, telling him he’s making a mistake.

But Castiel tunes it out. There’s nothing wrong with going out with an old friend to have a burger.

Except that isn’t what’s going on right now and if Castiel was a little less angry, he would stop to analyze that. But he’s already sitting on a booth with Dean and the waiter has already brought them the beers, so it would be outright rude to leave now.

They talk about old friends from college, speculating on where they are now and what became of them. Dean comes out with the most outlandish theories and manages to make Castiel laugh several times. He tells him about his job at the workshop and scrapyard with his godfather, Bobby, who is retiring the following year and leaving him in charge of everything. Castiel tells him about his job as a high school teacher and how proud he is about getting to shape some really brilliant young minds. Dean asks him about his book.

“My book?”

“Well, yeah. I remember back then you were always going on and on about your book,” Dean reminds him. “About how you wanted to write it and what were you going to do when it was finished…”

“Oh, that.” Castiel chuckles. He hasn’t thought about “his book” in years. He stopped writing during that terribly chaotic part of his life when he was homeless and wandering and he never really picked it up again. “I think every English major has the ambition of writing a book one day.”

“But that was really cool. You were good.”

“You never read a word I wrote.”

“Yes, I did,” Dean argues. “You always left your moleskins lying around. I had to pick them up and put them away so they wouldn’t get stained by all the coffee mugs you also left lying around. Holy shit, you were such a caffeine addict.”

Castiel remembers and shakes his head, amused and surprised that Dean hasn’t forgotten about those little details.

“I never got around finishing it,” he confesses. “But it doesn’t really bother me. People change. Some dreams are abandoned and replaced by others. Such is life.”

He takes a swig of his beer and when he puts it down, he can tell Dean isn’t really satisfied by that answer.

“Is Meg your new dream?” he asks, his gruff voice dropping an octave.

If he had asked him two days before, Castiel would have answered without a second of hesitation. And that’s when it hits him that this doubt he’s feeling, brought on by him sitting in this diner, swapping stories and jokes with his ex, is exactly what she feared. What is he doing? Why is he there at all? He has nothing to say to Dean. The conversation has been inconsequential and superficial the entire night and now that they’re nearing a more personal topic, he’s getting really uncomfortable.

Dean correctly interprets his silence.

“Sorry. I know I have no right to ask.”

“Meg is… she is wonderful.”

“But?”

“No buts. She just is,” Castiel says. “I’m happy with her.”

Dean throws him a skeptical look and Castiel wonders why so many people are doubting his words in such a short period of time.

“Yeah. I thought I was happy with Lisa, too,” Dean confesses. “But I couldn’t help feeling that something was missing. And then I did an incredibly stupid thing.”

“What was it?”

“I cheated on her with our neighbor Sid.”

“Dean!”

“I know.” Dean cringes. “Not my proudest moment. It’s just… every relationship I’ve ever had has ended badly. Including us. I sabotage myself every single time.”

Castiel gulps down some more of his beer. He’s trying to find the words to thank Dean for the dinner and hint that they should go back to the hotel, but Dean doesn’t give him the time before he catches him with the full force of his green gaze.

“But you know what’s the difference between you and every single other person I’ve dated?”

“I really don’t think we should…”

“You’re the one I miss the most,” Dean interrupts him.

Castiel didn’t notice when, but they’ve slid very close together and the hands holding their beers are side by side now, so close he can almost feel the heat radiating from Dean’s body.

“Dean…”

“The greatest mistake I ever made was letting you go,” Dean admits. “The second greatest was not trying to find you afterwards.”

He’s not drunk. Castiel only saw him drink a couple of beers and he knows that’s not nearly enough to get Dean drunk. So he’s not saying this because of the booze. And the way he’s looking at him… Castiel knows that look. It’s the look he had every single time he screwed up. It’s the look that pleads and begs for forgiveness until Castiel gives in.

He should leave. He has to leave. This conversation has already gone further than it should.

“Why did you?” Castiel asks despite himself.

“Because I was an idiot,” Dean confesses. “And if there was any way I could make it right…”

His pinky finger grazes the side of Castiel’s hand and the contact of their skins gives him a bolt of energy. Castiel jumps to his feet and grab his coat from the side of the booth.

“I have to go,” he mumbles quickly. He hears Dean calling after him, but he doesn’t turn around as he rushes towards the exit.

The cool spring night helps him clear his scrambled thoughts. He can’t believe it he let it go so far, he can’t believe he was this stupid and there’s not a single damn taxi coming, how can it be possible…?

“Cas!” Dean calls again.

Castiel doesn’t turn around and starts walking as fast as he can, but Dean catches up to him anyway.

“Wait,” he pleads and grabs Castiel by the arm. “Wait, just wait…”

“Let me go, Dean!”

“No.” Dean pulls from Castiel, so they’re standing face to face now. “I did that once and I spent twelve years regretting it.”

“This isn’t…” Castiel starts, but he can’t finish. Dean steps closer and crashes his mouth against Castiel’s.

It’s a paralyzing sensation, because Castiel doesn’t know what to do anymore. His lips are familiar and new at the same time, the warmth of his breath, intoxicating. The grip of Dean’s hand on his wrist is constricting and demanding, like he truly intends never to let him go. The only coherent thought he manages to have is that the old Dean would never have kissed him in the street. It makes his blood boil.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Dean breaks away. He opens his eyes slowly and a smile starts blooming in his lips.

“See? I knew…”

Castiel punches him. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his knuckles are collapsing against Dean’s cheek. He’s astounded at the violence of his reaction, but at the same time, there’s something immensely satisfying in the way Dean staggers backwards, in the way he rubs the spot where he was hit.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “I probably deserved that.”

“Shut up!” Castiel roars, furious. “How dare you, Dean Winchester? How dare you?!”

Dean’s eyes grow wide with shock, as if that wasn’t at all the reaction he was expecting and it only infuriates Castiel further.

“What did you think was going to happen? Do you think you can just saunter back into my life and I would drop everything and come running back to you? After all the misery you put me through?”

“No, Cas, I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t care!” Castiel screams at him. “I’m in love with Meg! I’m happy with her and I want to marry her! I’m not throwing that away for anyone, much less you!” He make a pause to take a breath and adds: “Not again!”

His heart is racing fast in his chest and his hands are trembling with pure rage. He feels the impulse to either push Dean or punch him again, but he’s staring at him with wide eyes and his jaw hanging open. Completely disconcerted. Castiel deflates and realizes taking it out on Dean, as much as he deserves it, will not make him feel any better.

He turns his back on him and walks away and this time, Dean doesn’t call him or try to stop him. He finds a taxi a block down and spends the ride to the hotel with his forehead pressed against the cold window’s glass, willing himself to take deep, slow breaths and calm down.

He’s still agitated when he reaches his room. He paces around, unsure of what to do next. A part of him wants to go out, find Dean and scream at him some more, and he can’t believe how strong that part is. He thought he had spent a lot of time letting go of his anger at Dean, letting go of everything he had meant for him. Turns out he still has a lot of things to yell at him, both old and new, and every time he forces himself to calm down and admit that isn’t going to solve anything, he thinks of something else and gets enraged all over again.

But despite that, what he really wants right now is talk to Meg. Confess everything he did and thought tonight, admit that she was right and beg for her to stop being mad at him. He deserves it, he knows he does, but he just can’t take the idea that she’s going to walk away from him for this. He picks up his cellphone, looks for her number and puts it down again on the bed. She’s probably at a club or a bar, somewhere noisy where she won’t hear it. And even if she does, she’s probably very inebriated on top of still angry with him, so he can’t expect to have a meaningful conversation with her. He sinks his face in his hands and remains there, feeling almost nauseated. He picks the phone again and starts redacting a text, but he ends up deleting it without sending it. That’s even worse. It’s impersonal and cowardly. All he can really do is wait for her to return.

He puts on his pajama pants and the old shirt he wears to sleep and lays on the bed, watching a very bland romantic comedy about a woman who has been the bridesmaid at an insane number of weddings. He can barely keep up with the plot, too busy looking at his phone, watching the minutes go by, unable to fall asleep.

Finally, around two in the morning, there’s a knock on his door. Castiel doesn’t stop to think before he stands up and rushes to open. Meg is propped up between Casey and Lilith, while Ruby holds her purse and her heels.

“Oh, good, this is the right room,” she says, and puts Meg’s possessions in his hands with a giggle. It’s obvious none of them is very sober, but they’re not all almost falling over like his girlfriend is. “Sorry, we went a little overboard with the tequila.”

“Hey, Meggy, look,” Lilith calls her as he pushes her forwards. “It’s your Credence.”

“Clarence,” Meg corrects her with a groan. She stumbles forwards and Castiel has to drop her shoes and purse to catch her. She puts her arms around his neck and sags, almost making him fall, but she doesn’t notice. She’s too busy looking up at him with a flirty smirk. “Hey, did you miss me?” she slurs.

“So we’re just gonna go now,” Ruby announces, as if it was necessary: Lilith and Casey are already leaving. Castiel can hear their laughter echoing down the hall. “She’s like, going to be really hangover tomorrow. But don’t let her show it.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Castiel replies, still hanging unto Meg as close as he can.

Ruby clicks her tongue and points a finger gun at him. “You’re the real MVP, Credence.”

Castiel isn’t sure what any of that means, but he has no time to think about it, because Meg is trying to stand on the tip of her toes to kiss her and her friends just left without closing the door. So he has to deal with one problem at a time. He spins around and convinces Meg to let go of him and sit on the bed. It proves more difficult than he thought.

“Meg, come on, you have to…”

“No!” Meg protests, hanging unto his neck even tighter. “Come on, Clarence. I want to move some furniture around with you…”

“Well, you’re almost comatose, so I don’t think that’s happening tonight,” Castiel argues, but Meg is too drunk to respond to that logic. “Why don’t you let me close the door real quick so we can have some privacy?”

“Oh, I like the way you think,” Meg says. She winks and her chest rumbles with laughter, but finally lets him go.

Castiel closes the door, picks up her purse and puts her shoes away. In the two, maybe three minutes it takes him to do that, Meg collapses down on the bed.

“Meg, you gotta take off your dress.”

“Yeah, that’s nice, Cas. But why don’t you take it off for me and we can get started, huh?”

Castiel doesn’t seem to have many options. He unzips the dress and helps her out of it, but Meg doesn’t seem to notice there’s nothing particularly sexual about it. He takes it away and hangs in on the closet, and in that time, Meg snuggles against the pillows and falls asleep. It’s another fight to get her under the covers so she doesn’t get sick.

“You’re so sweet on me, Clarence,” she mutters as she lets her head fall on the pillow and closes her eyes. “Why are you so sweet on me?”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but I was a total bitch to you,” Meg points out. “That’s why I wanted to come here and fuck your brains out, so you’d forget how much of a bitch I was.”

Castiel figures that’s the kind of logic that only makes sense after several shots of tequila, so he doesn’t even try to understand it. He can’t do anything for her smudged make-up, but runs his fingers through her hair to untangle it and he swears he can almost hear Meg purring.

“That’s really nice.”

“I bet I could ask you anything right now and you would tell me the truth, huh?” Castiel asks. He sinks into the covers by her side and watches her face closely. “Why do you call me Clarence?”

At first, there’s silence, so he thinks that Meg has fallen asleep. But after a moment, she whispers:

“Because of the angel.”

“What angel?”

“You know, from the movie,” she says, as if it’s obvious. “There’s this dude that’s about to jump off a bridge and Clarence the angel shows up to save him. And then he shows the guy that it’s worth being alive.”

“Sounds like a good movie. We should watch it some time.”

“It’s a stupid old Christmas movie,” Meg replies. “But, you know… you’re like that angel. You deserve wings for putting up with me.”

“That’s not true,” Castiel argues, but it doesn’t seem to matter if it is or not. Meg is already sound asleep.

He brushes the hair off her face one last time and hits the lights off.

 

* * *

 

The ceremony was supposed to be celebrated at eleven o’clock in the morning, but ended up starting half an hour later for a couple of reasons. One of them being Meg and Castiel woke up late and then spent twenty minutes in the bathroom, with him holding Meg’s hair back while she vomited.

“It’s the last time I drink, Clarence, I swear. I’m not even touching the champagne today.”

Between that and Meg getting ready and trying to hide her hangover with make-up, they have no time to speak. They stop at a pharmacy on the way to church and that delays them some more, but to their relief, people are still finding their seats in the church. Lilith comes running as soon as he spots them.

“Good! You’re here! Did you bring your make up?”

“Yes, why?”

“I’ll explain in the back room,” she says, grabbing Meg’s arm. “See you later, Credence.”

“It’s Clarence!” he corrects them, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Charlie beckons him from one of the pews to point out she and Dorothy saved him a seat.

Another fifteen minutes go by, with people growing increasingly impatient, Sam runs towards Pastor Jim and whispers in his ear. The priests nods and makes a gesture at the organist. The bridal march starts sounding and everyone rises to watch the bridesmaid stroll down the aisle. Meg spots him and wink an eye at him. For some reason, she seems to be in a better humor than she was earlier that morning.

Ruby looks gorgeous in her white dress, the skirt floating like a cloud when she passes by. Dean walks arm in arm with her and keeps his eyes fixed on the altar where Sam and Pastor Jim wait. When they arrive, Dean kisses Ruby on the cheek and shakes Sam hand before standing very rigid by his side while Pastor Jim starts a lovely speech about love and the importance of sharing one’s life with the right person.

Castiel starts tearing up while Ruby and Sam say their vows.

“Are you crying?” Dorothy whispers at him, as if she cannot believe it.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Castiel says, choking back a sob.

“You weirdo,” Charlie mutters, but she opens her purse and offers him some tissues. Castiel blows his nose discreetly, but luckily for him, his aren’t the only sniffles around the church.

Pastor Jim declares that Sam and Ruby are husband and wife and they share a passionate kiss while the church breaks into applause and cheer. The bridesmaids pass around bags of rose petals to throw at them when they step out of the church. Sam’s eyes are bright with happiness and Ruby’s smile couldn’t be more radiant.

It’s not until they’re back on the hotel, in the same ballroom where the rehearsal dinner was at that Castiel finally reunites with Meg.

“Were you crying?”

“I got a little bit emotional. Sue me,” Castiel grumbles.

Meg does nothing of the sort. She just laughs at him, grabs his hand and leads him to the table, where they once again are sitting next to Lilith. The waiters serve appetizers, but Meg keeps her promise and limits herself to soda and water. Lilith, also having learned her lesson, chats amicably about safe topics, like how beautiful the ceremony was and how much they had last night at the bar.

“There were several gentlemen eyeing your girl, Credence,” she tells him. They don’t bother to correct her anymore. “You gotta be careful or someone may snatch her from you.”

“I don’t really think anyone can snatch Meg against her will,” Castiel says, putting an arm around her shoulder. Meg lets him and even turns around and kisses him on the cheek while she says:

“Right on, dear.”

He doesn’t know what put her in such a giddy mood, but he’s definitely thankful for it.

Finally, the band announces the arrival of the happy couple and Sam and Ruby make a spectacular entrance to more and louder cheering. They dance as husband and wife for the first time and then the food is served. Meg must still be nauseous, because he barely touches her chicken, but when the band starts playing again and Ruby has to dance with all the men in the party, she pushes him to go and joins him immediately after. He thought she would be complaining about her heels and the impracticality of it all, but they dance two songs and she seems as happy as she can be and that makes him glad.

They stay away from the desserts’ table, choosing to go out into the gardens and take a stroll.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks her. “If you’re still tired, we can go upstairs so you can take a nap. I’m sure Ruby won’t mind you’re not here for the bouquet tossing.”

“And missing Lilith and Casey fighting for it? No way.” She laughs. They sit on a bench and she leans against him, a beam in her lips. “So, you remember when Lilith asked me if I had brought my make-up with me? Turns out Dean slipped on the tub and hit his face.”

“Did he now?” Castiel asks, crooking an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s what he told everybody,” Meg replies. “But as a nurse that sometimes works the Friday night shifts and sees a lot of people come in for injuries from bar fights, I can tell when a bruise was caused by a punch to the face.”

“That’s interesting,” Castiel says and suddenly he understands Meg’s good humor. She probably already imagined everything that happened. “Okay, it was me. I punched him in the face.”

“I knew it!” Meg is probably more delighted than she should be, but Castiel can’t find it in himself to blame her. “Details, Clarence. I want to hear all the details.”

So Castiel spares her none. Not even the fact he went to have dinner with Dean because he wanted to prove a point to her, not even what Dean said and the fact he kissed him. She flinches at those details, but she nods her head for him to continue. She smiles with glee when he tells her about the punch itself.

“I knew you had it in you.”

“I suppose,” Castiel says. He doesn’t know why, but he also feels better about the entire ordeal right now. “But, uh… you were right. Dean still has feelings for me. And I happen to have feelings for him. They just turn out to be very angry, resentful feelings.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” Meg says. She squeezes her hand and stands up. “Come on. Let’s dance this whole thing away, shall we?”

Castiel could get on board with that plan.

Ruby tossed the bouquet a couple of hours later and Charlie got it. She squealed with enthusiasm and ran to kiss Dorothy, while some of the other girls protested because they had double the chance of getting it. The bride and groom left to spend the night in a hotel near the airport, for they were leaving for the honeymoon the following day, and then the party was over. The guests said goodbye to each other and they all went up to their rooms to prepare their bags. They could pay for an extra night, but who had that kind of money laying around? Besides, they had to work on Monday.

It was already night when they started putting everything inside the Lincoln. They were going to take turns driving and if it got too late, Castiel convinced Meg they should stop at a motel to rest.

“It’s a bit of a downgrade, I understand that.”

“Not at all. I’m stealing the complimentary robes.”

Castiel closes the trunk and shots her look, but Meg only shows him an unrepentant grin. He guesses it’s too late to make her go upstairs and return them, when her smile freezes and become a glare of pure hate. Castiel doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know who just appeared behind him.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean calls him. “Can I, uh… can I talk to you?”

“We’re actually leaving already, so…” Meg says.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Dean insists.

He changed from his tux back into his more familiar jeans and leather jacket. The make up the bridesmaids used to cover his face is smudged, so Castiel can see the ugly-shaped bruise right underneath his eye. He feels a pang of guilt and looks at Meg. She crosses her arms over her chest, indicating she’s not happy about this, but she isn’t going to stop him.

“Of course.”

They walk a few steps away from the car, but not far away enough that Meg will lose sight of them. If he suddenly feels the impulse to attack Dean again… well, he’s not sure Meg is going to stop him, but he knows he’ll at least have a getaway driver.

“Okay, I’ll make this quick.” Dean sighs like what he’s about to say pains him, but he looks at Castiel in the eye while he speaks: “I wanted to apologize. For… everything.”

“Oh. Well… that might take more than just a minute,” Castiel points out.

“Cut me some slack, man.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You know what I meant.”

Castiel does, but that still isn’t an apology, so he waits. Dean purses his lips, but he sounds sincere when he talks:

“I’m sorry, okay? I was a jerk to you back when we were together and I was a jerk to you yesterday. I just… I don’t need to tell you this, but I have a lot things to work through.”

“No, you don’t need to tell me that.” Castiel sinks his hands in his pockets and smiles at him. “Apology accepted, Dean Winchester.”

Dean stares at him as if he’s waiting for him to say something else, but when Castiel doesn’t, he just lowers his gaze and sighs again.

“Pretty safe to say I blew up my chance, huh?”

Castiel thinks about this for a minute. Since this is, very likely, the last they’ll see of each other, he supposes he owes Dean the truth.

“These last couple of days… they sort of reminded me of all the little reasons I was in love with you. And also of the big one why I’m not anymore.” Castiel studies Dean’s face for his reaction. There’s a shadow of a smile in his lips, but it’s pretty clear that what Castiel is telling him saddens him. “What I’m trying to say is… you didn’t blow up our chance yesterday. You blew it twelve years ago, when I asked you to come with me and you didn’t.”

Dean’s shoulder sink. He closes his eyes, as if he’s taking in the hurt of Castiel’s words, but at the same time, he looks… relieved. It’s pretty clear he wondered that many times in the years since then, just as Castiel did. He used to imagine scenarios in which he would run into Dean, what he would say, what could happen, especially right after they broke up. But even then, even when he missed him like hell, even when he would have killed for one last chance to kiss him, to be with him, he always imagined himself walking away in the end.

He knows now that’s not how Dean imagined it. But whatever it was that he expected from all of this, at least it seems Castiel has put some of those doubts to rest, because Dean says:

“Yeah. A part of me always knew that’s how it was, but…” He stops and shakes his head. When he smiles again, Castiel knows he’s just putting on a good face, as he always does. But he doesn’t call him out on it. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

Castiel nods. Dean extends his hand and Castiel accepts it. They squeeze a little too tight and hold on for a little too long for it to mean so much more than just a simple shake. But when they let go, he notices Dean stretches his fingers before he hides it away in his pocket.

“Take care of yourself, Cas.”

“You too. Believe it or not, I do wish you the best.”

Dean give him one last nod before turning around and walking away. Castiel follows him with his eyes before he returns to the Lincoln.

Meg is waiting for him, leaning against it. He figures she would be irritated, but in fact, she looks pretty pensive. She’s also looking in Dean’s direction, even though he’s already gone.

“What’s on your mind?” Castiel asks.

Meg snaps out of her reflections and turns her attention back to him.

“You said I was right about Dean having feelings for you,” she reminds him. “But I was also wrong. About you. I was insecure and jealous and I took it out on you. I know you’re better than that.”

Castiel is surprised. How many people are going to apologize to him that day?

Meg takes a couple of steps until she’s standing in front of him.

“But I did learn something from all of this. Dean lost you because he was a coward. I’m not making the same mistake as him.”

“What are you saying?” Castiel squints at her. Meg grabs his hands and lifts them up to her lips. She leaves a quick kiss on his knuckles before raising her eyes at him.

“Castiel Novak, will you marry me?”

Castiel blinks at her, not sure he heard the words correctly. But Meg’s eyes are wide an honest and he feels a little weak at the knees.

“You… are you serious?”

“What? It’s the twenty first century. A girl can propose. Do you want me to get on one knee?”

Castiel barks out a laughter of pure joy. He grabs Meg by the waist, spins her around and pins her against the car to ravage her mouth. Meg bites his lower lip and grips his hair to pull him even closer and when they break apart, they’re both breathless and flushed.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes!” Castiel exclaims. “Of course! Will you marry me?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

They laugh like maniacs as they get inside the car.

“You know, if we drive really fast, we can be in Vegas by the morning.”

“Okay, I like that plan.” Meg chuckles. “But first we gotta make a quick stop at home so you can give me grandma’s ring. Dad can’t keep a secret,” she explains at his confused expression. “He called me up the other week and asked if you had proposed already.”

Castiel leans over the passenger seat and kisses her again and again and again. He doesn’t know how long they stay there and he doesn’t care. All he knows is that right now he’s the happiest man on earth and nothing can take this moment from him.


End file.
